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Cambridge International Examinations
Cambridge International General Certificate of Secondary Education
0427/01
LITERATURE (ENGLISH) (US)
Paper 1
May/June 2014
2 hours 15 minutes
No Additional Materials are required.
* 8 0 3 0 6 8 0 2 1 7 *
READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS FIRST
An answer booklet is provided inside this question paper. You should follow the instructions on the front cover
of the answer booklet. If you need additional answer paper ask the invigilator for a continuation booklet.
Answer three questions: one question from Section A, one question from Section B, and one question from
Section C.
Answer at least one passage-based question (marked *) and at least one essay question (marked †).
All questions in this paper carry equal points.
This document consists of 20 printed pages, 4 blank pages and 1 insert.
DC (AC) 103122
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BLANK PAGE
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CONTENTS
SECTION A: DRAMA
text
question
numbers
pages
Lorraine Hansberry: A Raisin in the Sun
William Shakespeare: Macbeth
Thornton Wilder: Our Town
*1, †2, 3
*4, †5, 6
*7, †8, 9
pages 4–5
pages 6–7
pages 8–9
text
question
numbers
pages
Billy Collins: from Sailing Alone Around the Room
from Songs of Ourselves
*10, †11, †12
*13, †14, †15
page 10
page 11
text
question
numbers
pages
Harper Lee: To Kill a Mockingbird
Carson McCullers: The Member of the Wedding
Amy Tan: The Joy Luck Club
Alice Walker: The Color Purple
from Stories of Ourselves
*16, †17, 18
*19, †20, 21
*22, †23, 24
*25, †26, 27
*28, †29, 30
pages 12–13
pages 14–15
pages 16–17
pages 18–19
pages 20–21
SECTION B: POETRY
SECTION C: PROSE
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SECTION A: DRAMA
LORRAINE HANSBERRY: A Raisin in the Sun
Either
*1 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
Mama:
[Seeing the make-down bed as Travis has left it ] Lord
have mercy, look at that poor bed.
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Content removed due to copyright restrictions.
But whether I go into business selling it to
’em is, and I don’t want that on my ledger this late in
life.
[from Act 1, Scene 1]
Or
How does Hansberry make this such an effective introduction to Mama?
†2 Explore two moments in the play where Hansberry makes you feel particularly angry.
Or
3 You are Walter. Bobo has left the apartment having told you that Willy has disappeared
with the money. You are lying on your bed.
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Write your thoughts.
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WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: Macbeth
Either
4* Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
Duncan:
Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission yet return’d?
Malcolm:
My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die; who did report
That very frankly he confess’d his treasons,
Implor’d your Highness’ pardon, and set forth
A deep repentance. Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it: he died
As one that had been studied in his death
To throw away the dearest thing he ow’d
As ’twere a careless trifle.
Duncan:
There’s no art
To find the mind’s construction in the face.
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.
[Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus.]
O worthiest cousin!
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me. Thou art so far before
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserv’d,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine! Only I have left to say,
More is thy due than more than all can pay.
Macbeth:
The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness’ part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties
Are to your throne and state children and servants,
Which do but what they should by doing everything
Safe toward your love and honour.
Duncan:
Welcome hither.
I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserv’d, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.
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Banquo:
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
Duncan:
My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name here-after
The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must
Not unaccompanied invest him only,
But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
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And bind us further to you.
Macbeth:
The rest is labour, which is not us’d for you.
I’ll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
Duncan:
Macbeth:
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My worthy Cawdor!
[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o’er-leap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Duncan:
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[Exit.
True, worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant;
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let’s after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome.
It is a peerless kinsman.
65
[from Act 1, Scene 4 ]
Or
Explore the ways in which Shakespeare dramatically reveals Duncan’s character in this
extract.
†5 After Duncan’s murder, Lady Macbeth tells Macbeth ‘A little water clears us of this deed.’
Or
Explore how Shakespeare dramatically shows how wrong she is.
6 You are Macbeth. You have just decided to have Lady Macduff and her children killed.
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Write your thoughts.
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THORNTON WILDER: Our Town
Either
*7 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
No curtain.
No scenery.
The audience, arriving, sees an empty stage in half-light.
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Content removed due to copyright restrictions.
Nobody very remarkable ever come out of it, s’far as we know.
[from Act 1]
Or
How does Wilder make this an effective opening to the play?
†8 Explore the ways in which Wilder makes the relationship between George and Emily so
dramatically significant in the play.
Or
9 You are Mr Webb after the wedding.
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Write your thoughts.
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SECTION B: POETRY
BILLY COLLINS: from Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems
Either
*10 Read this poem, and then answer the question that follows it:
My Number
Is Death miles away from this house,
reaching for a widow in Cincinnati
or breathing down the neck of a lost hiker
in British Columbia?
Is he too busy making arrangements,
tampering with air brakes,
scattering cancer cells like seeds,
loosening the wooden beams of roller coasters
5
to bother with my hidden cottage
that visitors find so hard to find?
10
Or is he stepping from a black car
parked at the dark end of the lane,
shaking open the familiar cloak,
its hood raised like the head of a crow,
and removing the scythe from the trunk?
15
Did you have any trouble with the directions?
I will ask, as I start talking my way out of this.
How does Collins vividly convey fear of death in this poem?
Or
†11 Explore the ways in which Collins conveys his love of life in Center.
Or
†12 How does Collins make the speaker’s thoughts and feelings vivid for you in either
Schoolsville or Forgetfulness?
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from SONGS OF OURSELVES
Either
*13 Read this poem, and then answer the question that follows it:
from Song of Myself
I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul,
The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.
I am the poet of the woman the same as the man,
And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man,
And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
5
I chant the chant of dilation or pride,
We have had ducking and deprecating about enough,
I show that size is only development.
Have you outstript the rest? are you the President?
It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass on.
I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
10
Press close bare-bosom’d night – press close magnetic nourishing night!
Night of south winds – night of the large few stars
Still nodding night – mad naked summer night.
15
Smile O voluptuous cool-breath’d earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!
Earth of departed sunset – earth of the mountains misty-topped!
Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!
20
Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!
Earth of the limpid grey of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!
Far-swooping elbowed earth – rich apple-blossom’d earth!
Smile, for your lover comes.
Prodigal, you have given me love – therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
(by Walt Whitman)
25
How does Whitman use striking words and phrases here to convey the speaker’s
thoughts and feelings?
Or
†14 Explore the ways in which Baxter creates vivid images of nature in The Bay.
Or
†15 How does Turner make the speaker’s attitude towards death memorable for you in On
Finding a Small Fly Crushed in a Book ?
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SECTION C: PROSE
HARPER LEE: To Kill a Mockingbird
Either
*16 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
Atticus picked up the Mobile Press and sat down in the rocking chair
Jem had vacated.
Content removed due to copyright restrictions.
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Content removed due to copyright restrictions.
Atticus smiled grimly. ‘That should appeal to your imagination. Just
pretend you’re inside the Radley house.’
[from Chapter 11]
Or
In this extract, what does Lee’s writing make you feel about the way Atticus is raising his
children?
†17 How does Lee make Miss Maudie such a likeable character? Support your ideas with
details from the novel.
Or
18You are Dill. You are about to board the train at Meridian and run away to Maycomb.
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Write your thoughts.
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CARSON McCULLERS: The Member of the Wedding
Either
*19 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
Frances waited a long time. John Henry was sleeping across the foot
of the bed, still dressed and with his shoes on, and his mouth was open and
one ear of his glasses frame had come loose. After waiting as long as she
could stand it, she took the suitcase and tiptoed very quietly down the stairs.
It was dark down there, dark in her father’s room, dark through the house.
She stood on the threshold of her father’s room and he was snoring softly.
The hardest time was the few minutes she stood there, listening.
The rest was easy. Her father was a widow-man, set in his ways, and
at night he folded his pants over a straight chair and left his wallet, watch,
and glasses on the right-hand side of the bureau. She moved very quietly
in the darkness and laid hand on the wallet almost immediately. She was
careful opening the bureau drawer, stopping to listen each time there was a
scraping sound. The pistol felt heavy and cool in her hot hand. It was easy
except for the loudness of beating heart and for an accident that happened
just as she crept from the room. She stumbled over a wastepaper basket
and the snoring stopped. Her father stirred, muttered. She held her breath—
then finally, after a minute, the snoring went on again.
She put the letter on the table and tiptoed to the back porch. But there
was one thing she had not counted on—John Henry began to call.
“Frankie!” The high child voice seemed to carry through all the rooms of
the night house. “Where are you?”
“Hush,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
She had left the light on in her room, and he stood in the stairway door
and looked down into the dark kitchen. “What are you doing down there in
the dark?”
“Hush!” she said again in a loud whisper. “I’ll be there by the time you
get to sleep.”
She waited a few minutes after John Henry had gone, then groped to
the back door, unlocked it, and stepped outside. But, though she was very
quiet, he must have heard her. “Wait, Frankie!” he wailed. “I’m coming.”
The child wailing had waked her father, and she knew it before she
reached the corner of the house. The night was dark and heavy, and as
she ran, she heard her father calling her. Behind the corner of the house
she looked and saw the kitchen light go on; the bulb swing back and forth,
making a swinging gold reflection on the arbor and the dark yard. He will
read the letter now, she thought, and chase and try to capture me. But
after she had run a few blocks, the suitcase bumping against her legs and
sometimes nearly tripping her, she remembered that her father would have
to put on pants and a shirt—for he would not chase her through the streets
dressed only in pajama bottoms. She stopped for a second to look behind.
No one was there. At the first street light she put down the suitcase and,
taking the wallet from the front pocket of her dress, opened it with shaking
hands. Inside there was three dollars and fifteen cents. She would have to
hop a box car, or something.
All at once, alone there in the night-empty street, she realized she did
not know how. It is easy to talk about hopping a freight train, but how did
bums and people really do it? She was three blocks from the station and
she walked toward it slowly. The station was closed and she went round
it and stared at the platform, long and empty under the pale lights, with
the Chiclet machines against the station wall and scraps of chewing-gum
paper and candy wrappings on the platform. The train tracks gleamed silver
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and exact and some freight cars were off on a siding in the distance, but
they were not hooked to any engine. The train would not come until two
o’clock, and would she be able to hop a car, as she had read about, and
get away? There was a red lantern a little way down the tracks, and against
this colored light she saw a railroad man come walking slowly. She could
not hang around like that until two o’clock—but as she left the station, one
shoulder dragged down by the weight of the bag, she did not know where
she should go.
55
[from Part 3 ]
How does McCullers make this such a tense and dramatic moment in the novel?
Or
†20 Explore the ways in which McCullers makes Honey and the soldier such striking
characters in the novel.
Or
21 You are Berenice. You are sitting having a drink with T.T. just after Frankie (Frances) has
thrown the knife at you.
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Write your thoughts.
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AMY TAN: The Joy Luck Club
Either
*22 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
I was hoping she would say something first about Rich. I had seen her
expression when she opened the door, her forced smile as she scrutinized
him from head to toe, checking her appraisal of him against that already
given to her by Auntie Suyuan. I tried to anticipate what criticisms she would
have.
Rich was not only not Chinese, he was a few years younger than I was.
And unfortunately, he looked much younger with his curly red hair, smooth
pale skin, and the splash of orange freckles across his nose. He was a bit
on the short side, compactly built. In his dark business suits, he looked nice
but easily forgettable, like somebody’s nephew at a funeral. Which was
why I didn’t notice him the first year we worked together at the firm. But my
mother noticed everything.
“So what do you think of Rich?” I finally asked, holding my breath.
She tossed the eggplant in the hot oil and it made a loud, angry hissing
sound. “So many spots on his face,” she said.
I could feel the pinpricks on my back. “They’re freckles. Freckles are
good luck, you know,” I said a bit too heatedly in trying to raise my voice
above the din of the kitchen.
“Oh?” she said innocently.
“Yes, the more spots the better. Everybody knows that.”
She considered this a moment and then smiled and spoke in
Chinese: “Maybe this is true. When you were young, you got the chicken
pox. So many spots, you had to stay home for ten days. So lucky, you
thought.”
I couldn’t save Rich in the kitchen. And I couldn’t save him later at the
dinner table.
He had brought a bottle of French wine, something he did not know my
parents could not appreciate. My parents did not even own wineglasses.
And then he also made the mistake of drinking not one but two frosted
glasses full, while everybody else had a half-inch “just for taste.”
When I offered Rich a fork, he insisted on using the slippery ivory
chopsticks. He held them splayed like the knock-kneed legs of an ostrich
while picking up a large chunk of sauce-coated eggplant. Halfway between
his plate and his open mouth, the chunk fell on his crisp white shirt and then
slid into his crotch. It took several minutes to get Shoshana to stop shrieking
with laughter.
And then he had helped himself to big portions of the shrimp and
snow peas, not realizing he should have taken only a polite spoonful, until
everybody had had a morsel.
He had declined the sautéed new greens, the tender and expensive
leaves of bean plants plucked before the sprouts turn into beans. And
Shoshana refused to eat them also, pointing to Rich: “He didn’t eat them!
He didn’t eat them!”
He thought he was being polite by refusing seconds, when he should
have followed my father’s example, who made a big show of taking small
portions of seconds, thirds, and even fourths, always saying he could not
resist another bite of something or other, and then groaning that he was so
full he thought he would burst.
But the worst was when Rich criticized my mother’s cooking, and he
didn’t even know what he had done. As is the Chinese cook’s custom, my
mother always made disparaging remarks about her own cooking. That
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night she chose to direct it toward her famous steamed pork and preserved
vegetable dish, which she always served with special pride.
“Ai! This dish not salty enough, no flavor,” she complained, after tasting
a small bite. “It is too bad to eat.”
This was our family’s cue to eat some and proclaim it the best she had
ever made. But before we could do so, Rich said, “You know, all it needs is a
little soy sauce.” And he proceeded to pour a riverful of the salty black stuff
on the platter, right before my mother’s horrified eyes.
And even though I was hoping throughout the dinner that my mother
would somehow see Rich’s kindness, his sense of humor and boyish charm,
I knew he had failed miserably in her eyes.
Rich obviously had had a different opinion on how the evening had
gone. When we got home that night, after we put Shoshana to bed, he said
modestly, “Well. I think we hit it off A-o-kay.” He had the look of a dalmatian,
panting, loyal, waiting to be petted.
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65
[from ‘American Translation’ – Waverly Jong – Four Directions ]
Or
How does Tan vividly convey the awkwardness of Rich’s meeting with Waverly’s mother
here?
†23 Explore the ways in which Tan strikingly portrays the relationship between Ying-ying and
Lena St Clair in the course of the novel.
Or
24 You are An-mei. You have just heard that Rose and Ted are going to be divorced.
© UCLES 2014
Write your thoughts.
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ALICE WALKER: The Color Purple
Either
*25 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
Dear Nettie,
The first thing I notice bout Mr ——— is how clean he is. His skin shine.
His hair brush back.
When he walk by the casket to review Sofia mother’s body he stop,
whisper something to her. Pat her shoulder. On his way back to his seat he
look over at me. I raise my fan and look off the other way.
Us went back to Harpo’s after the funeral.
I know you won’t believe this, Miss Celie, say Sofia, but Mr ——— act
like he trying to git religion.
Big a devil as he is, I say, trying is bout all he can do.
He don’t go to church or nothing, but he not so quick to judge. He work
real hard too.
What? I say. Mr ——— work!
He sure do. He out there in the field from sunup to sundown. And clean
that house just like a woman.
Even cook, say Harpo. And what more, wash the dishes when he
finish.
Naw, I say. Yall must still be dope.
But he don’t talk much or be round people, Sofia say.
Sound like craziness closing in to me, I say.
Just then, Mr ——— walk up.
How you Celie, he say.
Fine, I say. I look in his eyes and I see he feeling scared of me. Well,
good, I think. Let him feel what I felt.
Shug didn’t come with you this time? he say.
Naw, I say. She have to work. Sorry bout Sofia mama though.
Anybody be sorry, he say. The woman that brought Sofia in the world
brought something.
I don’t say nothing.
They put her away nice, he say.
They sure did, I say.
And so many grandchildren, he say. Well. Twelve children, all busy
multiplying. Just the family enough to fill the church.
Yeah, I say. That’s the truth.
How long you here for? he say.
Maybe a week, I say.
You know Harpo and Sofia baby girl real sick? he say.
Naw, I didn’t, I say. I point to Henrietta in the crowd. There she is over
there, I say. She look just fine.
Yeah, she look fine, he say, but she got some kind of blood disease.
Blood sort of clot up in her veins every once in a while, make her sick as a
dog. I don’t think she gon make it, he say.
Great goodness of life, I say.
Yeah, he say. It hard for Sofia. She still have to try to prop up that white
gal she raise. Now her mama dead. Her health not that good either. Plus,
Henrietta a hard row to hoe whether she sick or well.
Oh, she a little mess, I say. Then I think back to one of Nettie’s letters
bout the sicknesses children have where she at in Africa. Seem like to me
she mention something bout blood clots. I try to remember what she say
African peoples do, but I can’t. Talking to Mr ——— such a surprise I can’t
think of nothing. Not even nothing else to say.
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Mr ——— stand waiting for me to say something, looking off up to his
house. Finally he say, Good evening, and walk away.
Sofia say after I left, Mr ——— live like a pig. Shut up in the house so
much it stunk. Wouldn’t let nobody in until finally Harpo force his way in.
Clean the house, got food. Give his daddy a bath. Mr ——— too weak to
fight back. Plus, too far gone to care.
He couldn’t sleep, she say. At night he thought he heard bats outside
the door. Other things rattling in the chimney. But the worse part was having
to listen to his own heart. It did pretty well as long as there was daylight, but
soon as night come, it went crazy. Beating so loud it shook the room. Sound
like drums.
Or
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Explore the ways in which Walker vividly portrays Mr ——— (Albert) here.
†26 What impressions do you have of Nettie as you read the novel? Support your answer
with details from Walker’s writing.
Or
27 You are Sofia, at the end of the novel.
© UCLES 2014
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from STORIES OF OURSELVES
Either
*28 Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it:
It then occurred to him that he could have slipped out long ago, dashed
across the yard to the veranda and touched the ‘den’. It was necessary
to do that to win. He had forgotten. He had only remembered the part of
hiding and trying to elude the seeker. He had done that so successfully,
his success had occupied him so wholly that he had quite forgotten that
success had to be clinched by that final dash to victory and the ringing cry
of ‘Den!’
With a whimper he burst through the crack, fell on his knees, got up
and stumbled on stiff, benumbed legs across the shadowy yard, crying
heartily by the time he reached the veranda so that when he flung himself at
the white pillar and bawled, ‘Den! Den! Den!’ his voice broke with rage and
pity at the disgrace of it all and he felt himself flooded with tears and misery.
Out on the lawn, the children stopped chanting. They all turned to
stare at him in amazement. Their faces were pale and triangular in the
dusk. The trees and bushes around them stood inky and sepulchral, spilling
long shadows across them. They stared, wondering at his reappearance,
his passion, his wild animal howling. Their mother rose from her basket
chair and came towards him, worried, annoyed, saying, ‘Stop it, stop it,
Ravi. Don’t be a baby. Have you hurt yourself?’ Seeing him attended to, the
children went back to clasping their hands and chanting ‘The grass is green,
the rose is red …’
But Ravi would not let them. He tore himself out of his mother’s grasp
and pounded across the lawn into their midst, charging at them with his
head lowered so that they scattered in surprise. ‘I won, I won, I won,’ he
bawled, shaking his head so that the big tears flew. ‘Raghu didn’t find me. I
won, I won—’
It took them a minute to grasp what he was saying, even who he was.
They had quite forgotten him. Raghu had found all the others long ago.
There had been a fight about who was to be It next. It had been so fierce that
their mother had emerged from her bath and made them change to another
game. Then they had played another and another. Broken mulberries from
the tree and eaten them. Helped the driver wash the car when their father
returned from work. Helped the gardener water the beds till he roared at
them and swore he would complain to their parents. The parents had come
out, taken up their positions on the cane chairs. They had begun to play
again, sing and chant. All this time no one had remembered Ravi. Having
disappeared from the scene, he had disappeared from their minds. Clean.
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Raghu said roughly, pushing him aside, and even Mira
said, ‘Stop howling, Ravi. If you want to play, you can stand at the end of the
line,’ and she put him there very firmly.
The game proceeded. Two pairs of arms reached up and met in an arc.
The children trooped under it again and again in a lugubrious circle, ducking
their heads and intoning
‘The grass is green,
The rose is red;
Remember me
When I am dead, dead, dead, dead …’
And the arc of thin arms trembled in the twilight, and the heads were
bowed so sadly, and their feet tramped to that melancholy refrain so
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mournfully, so helplessly, that Ravi could not bear it. He would not follow
them, he would not be included in this funereal game. He had wanted
victory and triumph – not a funeral. But he had been forgotten, left out and
he would not join them now. The ignominy of being forgotten – how could
he face it? He felt his heart go heavy and ache inside him unbearably. He
lay down full length on the damp grass, crushing his face into it, no longer
crying, silenced by a terrible sense of his insignificance.
[from Games at Twilight by Anita Desai ]
Or
How does Desai capture Ravi’s despair in this dramatic ending to the story?
†29 What does McGahern’s writing make you feel about the son as you read The Stoat ?
Or
Support your ideas with details from the story.
30 You are Tommy Castelli, at the end of the story The Prison.
© UCLES 2014
Write your thoughts.
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Copyright Acknowledgements:
Question 1 © Lorraine Hansberry; A Raisin in the Sun; Methuen Drama, an imprint of A&C Black Publishers; 1959.
Question 7 © Thornton Wilder; Our Town; HarperCollins; 1938.
Question 10 © Billy Collins; The Apple That Astonished Paris; University of Arkansas Press; 1988.
Question 16 © Harper Lee; To Kill A Mockingbird; Pan; 1960.
Question 19 © Carson McCullers; The Member of the Wedding. Reproduced by permission of Pollinger Limited and The Estate of Carson McCullers.
Question 22 © Amy Tan; The Joy Luck Club. © 1989 by Amy Tan. Used by permission of G P Putnam’s Sons, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Question 25 © Alice Walker; The Color Purple; Phoenix Fiction; 1983.
Question 28© Games at Twilight and Other Stories. Copyright © 1978 Anita Desai. Reproduced by permission of the author c/o Rogers, Coleridge & White
Ltd., 20 Powis Mews, London W11 1JN.
Permission to reproduce items where third-party owned material protected by copyright is included has been sought and cleared where possible. Every
reasonable effort has been made by the publisher (UCLES) to trace copyright holders, but if any items requiring clearance have unwittingly been included, the
publisher will be pleased to make amends at the earliest possible opportunity.
Cambridge International Examinations is part of the Cambridge Assessment Group. Cambridge Assessment is the brand name of University of Cambridge Local
Examinations Syndicate (UCLES), which is itself a department of the University of Cambridge.
© UCLES 2014
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